Slow Burn
by panicattackkisses
Summary: Stiles and Lydia experience that always present Slow Burn.


When Lydia crashed through his bedroom door that night, Stiles never expected it to end how it did. She was furious, a hurricane of emotions and strawberry blonde curls, her eyes wild and shining with unshed tears. Stiles had sat silently on the edge of his bed, unsure what to do, how to comfort her.

He didn't even know if he was allowed to, he ached to touch her, to hold her. Yet, he was the one her anger was fired at.  
''I can't believe you!'' Lydia yelled; her voice hoarse. She ran her fingers roughly through her hair, sweeping it out of her eyes so she could glare at the boy.  
He had the sense to look at the floor, his hands clasped in front of him as he tried his best to avoid her stare.  
''You told me you would let Scott and Isaac deal with it! You promised me you would stay here!''  
She small sob escaped as Stiles finally raised his head to look at her with sad, guilty eyes. The bruises were already forming on his cheekbone, the purple shades standing out harshly against his pale skin. His bottom lip was cut, the blood smeared and dry. His face was littered with small cuts and scratches.  
Lydia's heart ached.  
''You promised me you would stay safe.'' She hiccupped softly and then finally broke down, dropping to the floor in defeat. It was 2am, her body was tired, her mind exhausted and her emotions in tatters.  
Stiles was quick to move, throwing himself onto the floor in front of her, tortured at seeing her cry – because of him. It was never because of him. Lydia never got mad at Stiles.

''Lydia, please Lydia,'' Stiles lowered his voice, whispering to her, ''Shhhh, its okay, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry Lydia.'' He cupped her chin, gently trying to lift her head, wanting to see her, to comfort her. He needed to fix it. ''Please.'' His voice broke.  
The girl obliged, sniffling and biting her bottom lip in a vain attempt to stop the tears. Something shattered inside Stiles' as he took in her watery eyes and broken expression. She smiled sadly at him.  
''When Scott called me, and told me you were hurt… I didn't know what to do. You were supposed to be here Stiles!'' Her voice rose again, panic washing over her. ''Derek was helping them! You promised me, remember?'' She squeezed her eyes shutting, blocking him out. Tears escaped through her long eyelashes, making tracks down her cheeks.

She stood quickly, pacing the length of his room, her hands making agitated movements as she struggled for words. Stiles didn't try to soothe her, he knew better.  
''Why don't you understand, Stiles?'' She smiled a smile that held a thousand emotions; sadness, frustration, sarcasm, disbelief. ''Why don't you get it? I want you to be safe.''  
Stiles gaped at her, unsure what to say or do, afraid of upsetting her more.  
''You got hurt Stiles! And I wasn't there; I wasn't there to help you! And now you're hurt.'' Another sob escaped.  
''Lydia, this isn't your fault.'' Stiles approached her slowly, unsure of what she wanted, what she needed. She didn't back away from his tender touch, so he continued until he was behind her, letting herself lean into his tall frame, seeking relief in his warmth.

He spoke quietly, leaning down to whisper into her ear. Her curls tickled his bruised cheek, his lips.  
''I was stupid. I wanted to help my friends, I'm sorry. I broke a promise to you; and for that, I am so, so sorry.'' His hands timidly rose from his sides, as he placed them on her small waist. ''But, I'm okay'', he continued, ''A little bruised, but I'm okay.''  
Stiles brushed her hair from her face, uncovering her slender neck. ''Please don't cry, not because of me''. He only hesitated slightly, before bending forward, dropping a whisper soft kiss to the pale skin of her neck. ''I'm sorry'', he sighed into her hair.

Lydia was unsure he had even kissed her, she barely felt it. She probably wouldn't have known if his lips didn't leave a trail of fire in their wake. Her skin felt hot, her eyes heavy. A slow burn had awoken inside her.  
She closed her eyes, pressing herself further into him, enjoying the feel of his solid frame, his rough hands of each side of her body. '_He was safe'_, she told herself, '_she was with him, and they were together_. _It was okay.'_  
The ache inside her dissipated at the contact they shared, she felt as if she could breathe again.  
''Don't do that to me again. I can't stand the thought of you-'' Lydia broke off, her words hanging ominously in the air. She swallowed the thought.  
''I know.'' The boy moved closer, softly tracing the shell of her ear with his nose, creating goose bumps across her skin. ''I get it.'' He murmured.  
He did. Lydia knew he understood, she knew that he was aware of the feeling. The torture of being separated, the pain they felt when the other was in danger. He knew the pain caused by the sharp tug on their hearts when their tether was put under strain.

She turned slowly between his arms, facing him. His head was bowed, his hair a mess. Her worried eyes took in his bruises, cuts and scratches. Lydia raised her hand hesitantly, scared of hurting him. She lightly touched his cheek, careful to avoid putting too much pressure to the mark.  
''Are you okay?''  
He nodded, his eyes closed and his face relaxed as he leant into her hand, relaxing at her touch and the comfort he found in it. The girl brought her other hand to his face, slowly mapping out his wounds with her fingertips. Lydia found herself tracing the outline of his lips, careful to avoid the small cut.  
Stiles exhaled forcefully, his eyes opening to show molten pools of chocolate. His lids were heavy, his gaze full of emotion. He was on fire. He felt each placement of her fingertips, the skin underneath them scorching. His lips tingled and his heart raced.

''Lydia…'' His voice was hoarse and his palms were rough on his skin as he eased her closer. His voice held unspoken longing and need. She indulged his request, moving so close she could count the golden flecks in his eyes and he could see the faint smatter of freckles that fell across her nose.  
''I know'', She replied, her skin heating under his touch, her heart hammering in her ribcage. She was more alert than she had been fifteen minutes ago, more awake than she had felt in an age.  
It was inevitable.

Their lips collided and Lydia was sure the stars exploded and the earth shattered. Stiles' once gentle hands, gripped her waist tightly before moving to roam her back and neck. The girl cradled his face, silently asking him to stay, stay where he was with her and not let go.  
He didn't.  
The kiss deepened and their breaths were heavy in the dark, as their feet stumbled desperately over textbooks and odd shoes. They made it to the edge of the bed, falling into it without a second thought. Stiles moved fluidly over Lydia, hovering above her slender body as to not crush it. She pulled at his t-shirt in frustration, desperate to feel his skin beneath. He wordlessly agreed, pulling it over his head in one swift movement before returning to her waiting lips.  
Her nails scratched his back, asking for more; needing more. Stiles groaned into her mouth in response.  
''Fuck''.  
Their lips moved together as if they did this every day, they knew how to touch each other and where. When Stile's tongue gently stroked her bottom lip, Lydia granted him access immediately, sighing into him and pulling him closer.  
''God, Stiles…''

More clothes were shed until they lay in nothing but their underwear, frantic movements slowed and a deep, burning need filled the room. The boy pressed tender kisses upon her neck as Lydia arched her back to give him more access. He trailed a blaze of heat across her collarbone with his lips, teeth and tongue; squeezing his eyes shut at the sounds he was emitting from her.  
He was sure he was in heaven, but the heat made him think otherwise. The girls long legs intertwined with his own as his hands traced the hills and valleys of her body.  
Stiles' eyes were hot coals that bore into her own, his smile surfacing from his lips as he took in her flushed cheeks and parted, swollen lips. Her chest rose and fell quickly; her hands absently tracing the hard definition of muscles on his arms.  
He fell into her warm embrace, kissing her eyelids softly and radiating any traces of tears that were left from before. Lydia reciprocated, peppering kisses across his face, lingering on his cheek before placing a searing kiss on his lips.  
Her hands ran through his wild hair, pulling the boy to her, unable to get enough. '_He wasn't close enough'_, she thought, as his chest pressed against her own; feeling the deep groan reverberating through him.

That slow burn fizzed through her body again and she rolled them over. Lydia sat astride him, looking down at the boy she now couldn't live without. He smiled her smile, the one she knew that was just for her. She took in his battered appearance and broad chest, his strong shoulders, his messy hair and chocolate brown eyes. His hands trailed lazy swirls across her bare thighs and her heart fluttered.  
Exhausted from the earlier debacle, the raging storm of emotions and pure lust filled heat within her – Lydia dropped her head to Stiles' chest, their bare skin creating delightful friction against each other.

His arms enveloped her, the warmth of his skin and the smell that was purely Stiles – chocolate, fresh air and something minty – surrounded Lydia. He smoothed her wild tame of curls as she nuzzled herself into his chest, placing kisses on every mole she could find. She could hear, and feel, his heart racing against her ear. The dull thump lulling her into a slumber, utterly content. Soon, Stiles joined her, his breathing slowed and his eyes fluttered shut.

When they awoke curled together in the morning, their bare skin still tingling with reminders of the night before, that slow burn erupted once again.


End file.
